Perfectly Perfect
by Gylfie
Summary: Ron is going to need more than the magic from wands to save Hermione from her obsession with perfection.
1. Poisonous Thoughts

_**Chapter One**_

3:00.

The majority of the Gryffindors were all sitting in Professor Severus Snape's muggy classroom in the dungeons, waiting for their teacher to finish grading their quizzes and for the time to pass. Harry, Ron and Hermione were passing notes, as usual, completely undetected by their professor. They had gotten good at this art with secrecy; they had known this loathsome teacher since their first year.

"You will kindly put your cauldrons away while I pass out these…" he passed, his dark eyes meeting with each student's and lingering just a second more on Harry's. "Rather disappointing tests…"

"'Disappointing'?" Ron mouthed with a look of fear on his freckled face.

Harry nodded grimly. Hermione was nonplussed, cracking her fingers and playing with a loose lock of her bushy brown hair.

"Here, Mr. Potter," Snape sneered, a rather satisfied look on his face. Harry moaned when he saw the red marks over almost every question.

"Wealsey…Granger…" he dropped them on their table and then walked to the front of his desk, his long, billowing back cape swishing furiously.

"What did you get, Ron?"

"What do you think? I failed!" He moaned and his head sank into his book.

"What did you get Hermione?" Ron interrupted before she could even open her mouth.

"Of course she got an 'A', you prat, she's perfect Book-worm Granger, you know." He replied derisively.

Hermione blushed and looked down at her paper. Ron was right, of course, she had got an 'A', and she was definitely a book-worm. But it still hurt they way he'd said it. Her cheeks flushed red and she kept her mouth tightly shut so she wouldn't start sobbing.

_But that's all you've ever wanted, Hermione, to be perfect._ Her thoughts spoke in their haunting tones as if another person inside of her. _Perfect Book-worm Granger, that's all you've ever wanted._

_No, Ron is all I've ever wanted. He's just so…perfect. _She almost sighed out loud.

_Ha! Ron? You'll never be good enough for him. Besides, falling in love will only distract you from your studies._

"Here, Harry, I'll help you get the right answers. Snape will give you the extra points if you do."

"Okay," he said, sighing. "Thanks Hermione."

"That's what I'm here for." She said, forcing the glumness out of her voice.

_That's what I'm her for…_ she thought bitterly. _I'm not a friend; I'm just a walking talking textbook. I'm perfect…_

Hermione stretched out on her bed, pulling out her journal so she could write in it before going to sleep. It hadn't been such a bad day, although she had gotten a nine out of ten on an assignment for transfiguration; she'd have to do some extra credit work to bring her average up. After all, her schoolwork had to be flawless. It was her parent's expectations. It was her teachers' expectations.

_It's my expectations. _

She felt a small tear fall down her cheek. She needed to be perfect. She had to prove to everyone that muggle-borns could do everything a pure-blood could; she had to prove that studying wasn't worthless, she had to prove…

_I have to prove to Ron that I'm perfect. I'm just the girl he wants; I'm just the girl he needs…_

Her own thoughts from earlier came flooding back into her head. _ You'll never be perfect enough for Ron._

It was true. Hermione had fallen badly for the cute little red-head almost from the moment he'd opened his mouth in front of her. But after all the years of infatuation, she had finally realized that she wasn't the right girl for him. She simply wasn't good enough.

_I'll make myself perfect. I'll do whatever it takes._ An angry tear fell. Why couldn't she be perfect? Why wasn't Ron in love with her, too?

_I have to be better disciplined. I have to punish myself for every failure. But how?_

Groaning in frustration, she threw herself onto her bed.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed sharply, recoiling instantly. A red drop of blood started rolling down her finger. Upon close inspection, she realized that she cut her finger on the razor she'd wrapped carefully in her towel for the shower. "A razor?" she mused out loud.

Suddenly, the razor gleaming in the light of her dorm looked very appealing. A smile crept onto her lips. The pain of the razor would remind her of the love she had for Ron and the vow to be his perfect girl. She swallowed and slowly pulled up the sleeve of her robe. Her soft white skin looked so easy to cut into. She rested the razor on her forearm, her heart pounding and her mouth dry.

_Just think of Ron._

Closing her eyes, she dug the blade into her arm. She winced at the small tingle of pain. A weird feeling was filling her as she watched her blood spill down her arm.

_I feel…whole. I feel…happy._

Confused at this strange new sensation, she cut deeper, rewarded with more blood. Her eyes gleamed as she watched it fall. Tears sprang from her eyes.

"What am I doing?" she cried, dropping the razor as if it were cursed and clutching her arm. "What am I doing?"

She buried her face into her covers, fresh tears wetting her cheeks. She took a deep breath and raised her head up.

_Just think of Ron. _

She wiped the tears away with her bleeding hand, leaving a smear of blood on her face. But she was determined now. Slowly, she stood on her feet and walked to the bathroom mutely, the razor in her hands.

_Just think of Ron. _


	2. Too Close For Comfort

Hello! (glomps reviewers) Thanks for reading and telling me what you think! It has all been appreciated. So, before I begin my next installment, I'll write a personal thank-you to all of you. :)

Dancerrdw: Thanks for your opinion! I'm glad that you like it and think it's cool. It's my first dark, angst fic, so I'm really happy that you had such nice things to say. :)

Elinel: What up, Sam? Finally you have an account! (glomps you) Hey, thanks for your review-ness and help with later chapters.

Baka-chibi-puffs: Hello, Lizzie! (waves of chibis glomp you) Thanks for ur incredibly long review…(cough) Now, in response to your threats, I'm sending to Jack to kill you, I mean, hug you.

Oasis Blackmore: What's up? Glad that you dropped in for this story. Hey, I visited ur bio and found it rather…interesting…(cough, Lavender and death, cough) I like that pairing, too. :) winks

Ahem! (clears throat) Ready for the next chapter? Before I start, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to one of my best friends, Kinneko-chan, who has been there with me through some rough times and has the right to claim the title of my most faithful reviewer! (huggles) Now, on with the story!

_Chapter Two_

The vibrant red-head Ginny Weasley walked into the Great Hall with a perturbed look on her freckly face. She and Hermione usually met after school at the statue of Godric Gryffindor, but today, Hermione hadn't shown up. Hermione was _never_ late, and if she was going to be, she would always warn Ginny beforehand at almost any cost. But Hermione had said barely a word to her today, and she hadn't shown up.

"Ron?" she asked her older brother tentatively.

"What's up?" he asked through a mouthful of mashed potatoes and chicken.

"Do you know where Hermione is? She didn't show up at our usual spot, and I've been waiting for almost three hours now."

"I haven't seen her since she left for Ancient Runes, and that was hours ago. I haven't really talked to her either, today. Sorry, but I haven't got a clue where she is."

"I've looked everywhere, Ron." She said desperately, beginning to panic.

"Have you checked in the girl's dormitories?"

Harry slid into the chair next to Ron. "What's up, mate?"

"Hermione's missing."

"Well…" Ginny began, flushing crimson and shuffling her feet. "I haven't checked the girl's dormitories."

"I thought you said you'd looked everywhere." Ron reminded her, causing her to redden.

"Well, Ronald, if you were as worried as I am about Hermione, you could have easily forgotten that dormitories." She retorted angrily.

"Whatever," Ron said, rolling his eyes and returning to his rather large plate of food.

Ginny "hmphed" and walked up the stairs, her nose in the air. Harry and Ron could be such idiots, and they never paid attention unless it had something to do with Quidditch or strangling Malfoy. Ron was worse than Harry, but as a duo, it was twice as much "fun". She sighed loudly. Ron was right, of course, she had been overacting enough to prevent her from thinking properly. But she had her points, too. Hermione had been acting really oddly lately, but this was the first time she had done something like this. Something was definitely wrong. Hermione didn't act like this and she definitely didn't forget routines she'd had since the third year. Ginny just hoped she was okay.

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Hermione groaned and sank to the ground. She could see out of the corner of her eye her tear and blood-stained pale face. She'd lost so much blood….

_It's what you deserve, Hermione. You have failed too many times. It's time for some punishment. Just think, soon you'll be perfect. _

Hermione's thoughts were swimming and she felt dizzy. She sunk to the ground. In front of her lay the bloody razor. Its blade still gleamed in the dim light of the prefect's bathroom. She pulled out up her robes. There, engraved into her skin was the word "failure".

_It will remind you, Hermione, never fail again. Perfection knows no mistakes. _

She traced the crudely cut word with her finger. It was still bleeding. She had to hide it. If someone found out, she…she didn't know what she would do. Her brown eyes traveled to the foamy bubble bath. Barely mustering the strength to crawl, she dipped the hand into the steaming water and let it wash everything away except the reminder. She sighed, rolling over on her back and staring up at the ceiling. Everything was so blurry. She wasn't sure if it was because she was about to lose consciousness or the steam from the bath was fogging up the bathroom. Her eyelids drooped.

_Don't fall asleep._

It was her last thought before drifting off.

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Ginny cracked open the door to the dormitory she shared with Hermione. A ringing silence greeted her.

"Hermione?" There was no reply. Ginny stepped into the room which appeared to be empty. "Hermione…are you in here?"

"Keep it down, Ginny…" a voice mumbled under the bed sheets.

"Hermione!"

"No, it's Pavarti. Why are you calling for Hermione?"

"She's been missing for a long time. Do you know where she is?"

"No…when I came in here, it was empty and I've been in here for at least an hour and a half." Ginny's heart skipped a beat. Where was Hermione?

"Well, good night, Pavarti." She said, closing the door.

"'Night."

Ginny took a deep breath. She ran out of the Gryffindor common room and took the stairs down to the Great Hall two at a time. Harry and Ron, as she expected, were making foul imitations of Malfoy. She ran a hair through her thick curly hair and then walked over to them.

"Have any luck?" Ron asked, barely containing his snickers to utter a word.

"No. Pavarti was the only one in our dorm, and the common room is completely cleared out except for Neville, and he's dozing off." She replied worriedly.

"I'm sure she'll turn up." Ron said lazily, patting her shoulder. "Did you check the library?"

"What king of a prat do you think I am! That was the first place I looked!" Ginny's eyes blazed.

"Whoa," Ron said meekly. "Calm down."

"Ron, are you listening to me at all? She's been gone for three frickin' hours!"

"Well…"

Ron never got the chance to finish his statement. A beaming Dumbledore stood in front of the students dining in the Great Hall.

"Attention, students! Due to approaching exams, we are closing the Great Hall at earlier hours so you will not be tempted to stay up late and eat. Please finish up and proceed to your dorms." With that, he left.

"What are we going to do?" Ginny moaned. "We still haven't found Hermione!"

"Look," Ron said firmly, grabbing her shoulder firmly. "I still have prefect duty for the next hour or so. I'll look for Hermione then."

"Oh, thank you, Ron!" Ginny said, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging to him.

"Okay…okay…just get off."

Harry took Ginny out of the way and walked her up the stairs. Ron sighed.

"I can already tell it's going to be a long night."

"PREFECTS!" McGonagall yelled in her high-pitched voice.

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Ron grabbed his towel after saying good night to Harry, who was already half-asleep. It was at least one in the morning; prefect duty had run late that night due to a very annoying group of cocky first-year Slytherins. He was ready to go to sleep right then, but he needed a shower badly, again, due to the same first years.

Keeping his wand lighted, he walked down the dark hallway. Luckily, now that Ron had memorized pathways from the Marauder's Map, there was a significantly lower chance that he'd run into an undoubtedly cranky Filch. He'd probably end up "accidentally" hexing the old crone, anyway. Before he knew it, he'd reached the portrait to the prefect's bathroom.

"Witches' Toes." He whispered. The door swung open loudly. Startled, he dashed into the bathroom and listened for sound. After deciding that Filch was either asleep or elsewhere, he turned around and let a breath of relief. It was then that he saw her. Hermione was crumpled in a heap on the ground, half of her body draped in the water.

"Hermione!" He dropped his stuff and ran over to her.

_I would have never thought of this bathroom,_ he thought.

"Hermione, are you all right?" he shook her gently, but to no avail. She remained as lifeless as an old rag doll. He pulled her arm out of the water. The entire right side of her robe was soaked with water. His heart pounded. Had she drowned? He put his head to her mouth. A soft exhale tickled the delicate skin of his ear. A powerful feeling of relief swept through his body. He had to take several deep breaths before he could move.

"Hermione…" he whispered softly into her ear. He took her limp head into his lap and began to gently lift her bangs off of her forehead. Her skin was clammy and cold due to her extreme sweating, but she felt uncomfortably warm. "Can you hear me, Hermione?"

"Ron…" she moaned, her eyelids fluttering open.

"Hermione, what happened?"

"I dunno…how…how long have I been in here?"

"It doesn't matter. Bloody h8$3, Hermione, you gave me a right good scare."

"Really?" she asked softly, giggling feebly.

"You don't even know," he replied, squeezing her gently. Hermione cleared her throat and Ron realized how close they had become. He backed off instantly, blushing furiously.

"Erm...so…" he said, clearing his throat. "Who did this to you?"

Hermione's mind whirled.

_What do I say? I can't tell Ron, he wouldn't understand. He's never understood. But if I don't say something, he's going to get suspicious and he might even rat me out. I have to think of something…but I've never lied to Ron before…_

"Malfoy." she replied. "he tripped me in the dungeons, and I slipped. I didn't want to go to dinner because I didn't want any of the usual crap from him, but apparently Malfoy wasn't done with me. He was here, being a prefect himself. He had his wand out, waiting for me behind something. Next thing I know, I hear a curse, and then everything's black."

"Stupid git," Ron spat, looking ready to kill. He'll pay for that."

"Ron."

"Hmmm?"

"I want to go to bed."

"Oh, yes, of course, here, lemme help you." He slipped his arm around her slender waist, and then gradually lifted her to her feet.

"Thanks, Ron."

"Oh sure, no problem. I mean, we're all united against Malfoy." He laughed rather nervously.

_His arm is around my waist! His arm is around my waist! He looks so beautiful this close, and he's so willing to help me…Wait. I'm not perfect yet. He can't like me. Like he said, he's doing this because he hates Malfoy and Malfoy hurt me. He doesn't have real feelings for me. He only has hatred towards Malfoy…I feel horrible…I just lied to him...but what could I do? Ron will never understand how I feel about him. NEVER. Besides, it was just a little white lie…what he doesn't know can't hurt him, right?_

Hermione was blissfully unaware that she was getting tangled in a very twisted web of lies…

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So, my wonderful-beyond-all-reason reviewers, what did you think? I want this to be my most popular story, yet, so please let me know what you think! If you have suggestions, don't be afraid to shout them out! (yes, baka-chibi-puffs, I know you want the ending to be angsty…) Oh, and I'll make reviewing more rewarding. The **third** reviewer of this chapter will get to pick the next romantic scene. (I'll give you stuff I have in the beginning of my next chapter, or in your review you can just state your own idea.) And to all my reviewers, whom I love, I would like to know, who do you loathe more, Professor Umbridge or Malfoy? I'd love to hear from you. :)


	3. A Chance?

Hey guys? What's up? Sorry this chapter took longer than the others to come out, but my family was on vacation and I was computer-deprived. So, anyways, I bet some of you are wondering about the poll and contest that I left at the end of Chap 2. Well, every single one of you who responded to the poll said you hated Umbridge the most! I'm not that surprised; she's probably the worst thing that ever happened to Hogwarts…anyway, thanks for sharing your opinions, and I hope you respond to the poll at the end of this chapter, too! (winks) So, the third reviewer of this chapter was Elinel! Congratulations! You can leave your idea in the next review, or you have other ways of contacting me. Oh, and I reserve the right to put the scene you give me in whatever chapter I feel fits in best with the story. Okay, before I get started on my personal thank-you notes, (ten reviews! WOW! That's the most reviews I have ever had for a chapter on any story ever…thank you!) I need to explain a couple things. Okay, for all you Ron/Hermione shippers reading this, this is going to be a romantic story! I promise! (it did say romance on the description, didn't it?) This chapter is actually going to lead up to a big Ron/Hermione scene in later chapters. Okay, now that I covered that…in some of the reviews that have been submitted, I noticed that people were saying it really wasn't Hermione-ish and she wasn't acting like her usual self. That's true, and one of the points of this story is to explore the darker side of Hermione. I mean, J.K. Rowling hasn't done it yet, and the next book is her last. But I thought that providing a deeper look into the Hermione that no one sees and using it to connect her to Ron would be intriguing and refreshing to readers, especially to those who like the Ron/Hermione relationship. However, if you notice something that is way off the character that J.K. has created, don't hesitate to tell me in an honest review! Okay, now before I start, I'd like to thank my reviewers, especially because there were so many! (cookies for all) :)

**Tsuki no Tenshi:** Thanks for stopping and reading my story! You're definitely right; Hermione needs someone to tell her she's being stupid.

**Baka-chibi-puffs:** I had a feeling you'd say that… (glomp) So, I really like your new story and thanks again for your continued support of this story!

**Elinel:** laughs No, sorry, Sam, but I can't let you in this story, however, you can continue to voice your opinion however you'd like! (winks)

**Vellagirl:** Thanks for reading my story and saying such nice things! I'm really glad you like the story and hope you continue writing more awesome stories as well as seeing this one to the end!

**Metamorphmagus01:** Did I spell it right?  Um...no comment on the throw-up thing…but I'm glad you think it's sad, because it's supposed to be!

**Jeanne:** Thanks for your nice comments! I hope that this chapter measures up to your expectations!

**Dancerrdw:** Your continue support of my story is really appreciated, even though it's only the second chapter! Thanks for responding to the poll!

**Oasis Blackmore:** Your comments always make me laugh! (giggles) Maybe I'll do a murder mystery with Lavender after this… (cough) Anyways, thanks for always being nice about my story and funny!

**Prettyinpink09:** I like your penname! (blushes) Thanks for your comments. They made my day!

**Summer chill:** Thanks! I think what you said about enemies at school makes a lot of sense. I mean, Malfoy does make Harry look loads better, don't you think?

Ahem, ready for the next chapter? Okay, before I start this chapter, I'd like to dedicate it, as promised, to Vellagirl, for her amazing writing talents and her nice comments to me in her stories! It really means a lot to me that you, my writing role model, have read and reviewed this story. Again, much thanks and on with the story!

_Chapter Three_

"Hermione! Hermione!" Ginny yelled, shaking her gently.

"Whaa?" Hermione asked, groggily, sitting up and running a hand through her bushier than ever hair. Before she could rub her eyes, Ginny had jumped on her bed and hugged/attacked her.

"Uh…good morning...?" Hermione said awkwardly, patting Ginny's back.

"Where were you yesterday?" Ginny asked, fixing her friend in a steely glare. Suddenly, reality knocked hard on Hermione.

"Oh…it's a long story…what time is it?"

Ginny glanced at her watch and glared at her before replying.

"Well…I would say I've got time, but apparently we only have five minutes before class starts."

"What?" Hermione asked, startled. She literally leaped out of her bed and dove into the bathroom.

"Hermione, I was kidding!" Ginny said, resisting the urge to laugh. But it was futile. Hermione was already furiously engaged in getting ready, which she had the next two hours to do.

"All right, let's go!" Hermione said, resolutely, walking out of the bathroom in about half a minute. Ginny couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"W-what's so funny?" Hermione asked, her smile faltering.

"You're still in your pajamas," Ginny replied after she had recovered a little, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Oh…" Hermione said, blushing as she looked down at her satin nightgown. She pivoted on her foot toward the bathroom.

"Wait! Hermione!" Ginny called.

"What? Is there something else I missed?"

"Well…" Ginny had to pause so she wouldn't laugh. "There's toothpaste all over your face…" Hermione groaned. "But I was just kidding about the whole five minutes to class thing. We have another two hours before class begins."

"Oh…" Hermione said, blushing redder and taking a deep breath. She was too relieved at the moment to be angry with Ginny. "I thought…"

"You wouldn't have survived being late to class," Ginny pointed out, still recovering from her fit of giggles. Hermione was quite purple now.

"You're probably right," Hermione admitted ruefully, shrugging. "I mean, my boggart did turn into Professor McGonagall during the third year exams…"

"I miss Professor Lupin," Ginny said softly, her eyes twinkling with reminiscence. "He was the coolest defense against the dark arts teacher I've ever had."

"Well, the other professors weren't all that great. I mean, anyone must have looked brilliant when compared to Professor Lockhart, and Professor Quirrel and 'Professor Moody' were both evil, so there's not really a comparison there, either."

"Oh, c'mon, Hermione, I can tell you're just trying to make me feel better. You miss him jus as much as I do. I mean, you were there with him during all the Black stuff, and he's in the Order and everything, you must miss him being a teacher."

Hermione sighed, looking out the window at the Hogwarts grounds. Professor Lupin was definitely the coolest teacher she'd had so far; he understood things that she couldn't really confide in anyone else except for Harry and Ron, and Ginny, too, of course. But mostly, he had a strange knack for helping her get over her fears. He always knew the right thing to say at the right moment, and by just standing by him, she felt a strange feeling of protection, like she would always be safe beside him, even though he was a werewolf.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked softly.

"Yeah?" Hermione asked pulling her mind slowly out of the memories it was exploring.

"Shall we go down to breakfast, then? I'm starving." Ginny said, grinning.

"Yeah, I'm pretty famished myself," Hermione said, her mind clearly elsewhere. Ginny grabbed her arm and steered her towards the Great Hall.

"Hermione, you never did tell me why you were gone yesterday. You better spit it out, because I was worried sick about you." Ginny suddenly stopped and gagged.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked sharply, grabbing her shoulder.

"I just sounded like my mother," she said, looking horrified. Hermione roared with laughter. "What! It's not funny, you know, I don't want to turn out like the fat prat Percy."

"Sorry, I'm not trying to be mean, but I'm relieved because I thought for a second there something really bad had happened."

"Something really bad just did happen," Ginny insisted, looking fierce.

"Whatever, let's go to breakfast," Hermione said, rolling her eyes and still laughing. Ginny grudgingly grinned and walked down the stairs with Hermione.

"So, you trying to get out of telling me what happened last night? Did something happen that deals with a boy?" Ginny asked, smirking. Hermione stared at her and blushed.

_Did something happen in between me and Ron? _

Hermione was getting used to internal war about pretty much everything, but she had to admit that what Ginny had said had hit some nerve. She wasn't exactly how to react, much less answer the question.

"Well?" Ginny implored. "Hermione, if you don't answer I'll be _forced_ to assume the worst…"

"Nothing happened in between me and any boy." Hermione replied stoutly. Ginny raised her eyebrow doubtfully.

"Hermione, you know you can tell me anything." Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but found that words wouldn't come.

_Ginny knows you better than you even know yourself. She knows, Ron, too. Maybe she can help…it is easy to talk to her, and she has proven that she keeps secrets. She will understand my infatuation. But the punishment?_

_Of course she won't understand. She'll be afraid, and she'll tell someone because she thinks she's doing the right thing. She thinks she's helping you. But she can't help you. Nothing but the razor can understand. Nothing but the razor can help. Remember, only when you are perfect can you have friends._

"Well, Ron helped me, but it was only because of Malfoy."

"WHAT! If Malfoy laid a FINGER on you, I'LL KILL HIM!" Ginny burst savagely, completely forgetting all pretenses.

"You don't have to shout," Hermione chided, launching into a recap of the events of the night before, being careful to leave out the part with Ron putting his hand around her waist and hugging her. By the time she had finished, they had reached their seats next to Ron and Harry, who were deeply involved in a conversation of their own.

_Lie after lie…_

"Hey, Harry! Hey, Ron! Did you have a good night's sleep?" Hermione asked, slipping in the seat between them, completely ignoring her conscience.

"I had a weird dream about squirrels parading around a piece of tripe, but other than that, I had a great night's sleep." Ron replied. Harry and Hermione stared at him, exchanged glances, and burst into laughter.

"Well, that's good," Hermione concluded, carefully spreading butter on her toast.

"I had a dreamless sleep," Harry said after a while. "How about you, Hermione?"

For a fraction of a second, Hermione's eyes met Ron's and a strange feeling hit her stomach.

"I…had a great night's sleep, squirrel-free," she replied.

"Did you get to bed early?" Harry asked.

_I can't lie to Harry, too, but I…have to. _

"No, actually, I ran into Malfoy."

"WHAT?" Harry looked identical to Ginny. Ron suddenly looked edgy, but again their eyes met and his message couldn't have been clearer.

_Don't say anything about last night that suggests you-know-what._

_I won't, you can trust me._

Hermione again retold her story, weaving her way around her and Ron, and then she uncomfortably began to eat.

_Can Ron trust me? I've lied to every person at this table. I've lied to every friend I've ever had here. Can anyone trust me?_

_The trust of your friends is a small price to pay for complete perfection. They'll understand when the time is right. _

"Students!" a voice bellowed, interrupting her thoughts. She blinked until her eyes refocused and looked up at Professor Dumbledore. He looked very pleased with himself.

"As you know, the winter recess is approaching. Due to the fact that the Yule Ball was a great success and a great deal of fun as well, we have decided to hold another ball, Hogwarts students only, fourth years and up, of course, that will occur at the end of the week before the holidays begin. I hope you will all attend if allowed, as we will have spectacular guests and it will bring the _magic_ power of love during these dark times to Hogwarts. Additional information has been posted on the House bulletin boards. If you have any additional questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to ask the professors or me. Thank you." He sat down and the hall immediately broke out in conversation.

"Cheers," Ginny said, positively beaming. Her smile faltered when she saw the look on Hermione's face. "What's the matter?"

"I don't want to go to a dance. The Yule Ball was a disaster."

"That's just because Ron was being a prat! Oh, please, Hermione. I want to go to a dance so badly, but I couldn't do it without you."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, surprised that her attendance was so mandatory to Ginny.

"Because, it's the first dance I can go to where I can actually go with the freedom of any boy I like and I can actually have fun this time."

"And where do I come in?"

"I want my best friend to come with me." Hermione blushed and bit her lip.

_Would she being saying that if she knew that I've lied to her?_

"Well, I'll think about it."

"Thanks," Ginny smiled, flinging her arms around her neck.

"I'm not promising anything until I see the bulletin."

"Let's see it, now then."

"But…" Hermione searched for an excuse. "I haven't finished…my breakfast."

"You haven't touched anything and it's already been an hour." She retorted flatly. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Has it really been that long?" Ginny nodded. "Oh, all right, I'll come…"

The two walked up the stairs and back the dormitory, where a bright pink notice immediately caught their eye.

"D'you reckon…"

Hermione nodded before Ginny could finish her sentence. They both looked at the notice and skimmed through it.

"I can't go." Hermione said, shaking her head and turning around.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, the only dress robes I have are from the fourth year, which probably don't fit me anymore, anyways, and besides, we have to get an actual dress. I didn't bring one to Hogwarts."

"We can order you a brand new one from Madam Malkin's. Please, Hermione. Please." Ginny begged. Hermione sighed.

"Oh, all right…" she agreed reluctantly. Ginny cheered.

_I hope Ron goes…with me._

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

So, what'd you think? I tried to make it a bit longer since I've been off for so long, but time prevented me from going much further. Anyway, please review! It feels so good and it is the best motivation when I get all these lovely comments from you awesome people. Okay, enough begging. This chapter's poll…hmm…what's your favorite book and why? The third reviewer of this chapter will have special mention in the next chapter, if you allow me to use your penname. Plus, I need some suggestions about the dance and the dress Hermione should wear. I'm thinking red would look flattering, but the dance is still a ways away, and I'm very open to suggestions. Thanks for reading:)


	4. It Starts With a Kiss

Hey, guys! The contest winner was Oasis Blackmore! Congrats! Look for your penname in the story in the next chapter:) I'm going to put my thank-you in the next chapter. Sorry, but I don't have time to if I want to finish this chapter. I'll put in a poll and contest in the next one, too. Read and review, please! ;)

_Chapter Four_

"So…" McGonagall continued. "That was the end of the creators of transfiguration." The sixth years were eagerly waiting for the last class of the day to end. There were only five minutes of class left, but McGonagall didn't feel troubled continuing her lesson, because she didn't need to give the students any extra time to prepare for the next class. In fact, she was forcing as much information into her words as was humanely possible.

"Can we please go now?" Ron muttered under his breath, his head lying on top of his books.

"Relax, we only have another five minutes left," Hermione hissed through her teeth.

"I can't survive another five minutes," Harry moaned, in a position identical to Ron's. She rolled her eyes and then turned her attention to Professor McGonagall once again. The teacher's expression suddenly became grim. Ron and Harry looked up slowly, alarmed by her abrupt change of expression.

"Professor, are you all right?" Hermione asked timidly, biting her lip and turning a light shade of pink. McGonagall looked at her, her expression softening for a second, and then she turned back to the class, a look of utmost pity stretched in very crease of her face.

"Class, today I was going to let you out early," she had to pause while the students cheered, a grudging smile on her face. "But unseen circumstances have prevented this." Everyone's smile disappeared instantly.

"What's going on, Professor?"

"As you know, the house-elves in this school work as janitors." Hermione snorted loudly. McGonagall cleared her throat and continued. "And while cleaning the prefects' bathroom, one found a very peculiar object."

She held up a blood-caked razor. Hermione's eyes widened in horror and her mind buzzed, searching every corner of her thoughts with excuses, each ore far-fetched than the next.

_Relax; no one would ever suspect you. You've covered this up flawlessly. Perfectly. _

She took a deep breath and tried to calm her jangling nerves. It was true; no one would ever expect perfect book-worm Grange to do such a horrible thing. She could evade trouble…hopefully. She bit her lip and twisted her hands together nervously, hoping nothing would show.

"So what?" Malfoy sneered. "Some clumsy girl cut herself with a razor. Big deal." The Slytherins snickered loudly. McGonagall turned on him, her eyes flashing. The Slytherins fell silent instantly.

"Malfoy, under normal circumstances, I would not care nearly as much. However, the Headmaster has discovered that this razor was used deliberately." A hush fell over the class. Hermione hoped she wasn't shaking in terror.

"And thus," McGonagall continued as though nothing had happened, "The Headmaster has asked the heads of the houses to hold a special questioning period, in hopes that we may find the student who is harming his or her herself and then administer counseling that will ensure that this never occurs again. So, that is why I am forced to detain you all for another extra minute or two." McGonagall's gaze was so severe that no one dared to moan or question her. They all stayed deathly silent as she made her way over to the Gryffindor's side of the classroom.

"Potter, Granger, Weasley, I know it wasn't you behind this." She smiled at them. "You may go."

_No one will ever find out._

Hermione slowly let herself relax as the trio left the class, receiving deep looks of loathing from everyone as they did so.

"So," Ron began eagerly once they were out of earshot. "Who do you think it is?"

"I bet you anything it was Pansy." Harry said, smiling snidely. "I mean, this is just another one of her glorious plans to get school-wide attention and popularity."

"It probably is," Ron said, his eyes gleaming menacingly. "I wonder what McGonagall meant when she said 'administer counseling that will ensure this never occurs again'? I hope that means Pansy will be in loads of trouble. Maybe she won't be able to go to the dance and _poor_ Malfoy will be left without a date." He and Harry sniggered silently while Hermione kept silent.

"Who do you reckon it was?" Harry asked, turning on Hermione.

"Me? I don't have a clue." She replied tersely, feeling heat rise into her cheeks.

"Oh come off it," Ron said impatiently. "You must have _some _idea who it was. Don't you listen to any gossip in the girls' dorms?"

"I have no idea who would do such a thing to themselves," Hermione said indignantly. "I hope McGonagall finds out."

She cleared her throat uncomfortably in the silence.

"So…" Ron trailed off. "Shall we go to dinner, then? I hear they're serving Yorkshire pudding tonight!"

"Yeah, dinner sounds really good right now." Harry agreed.

"I'm dying for some food," Hermione grinned, linking arms with them.

_That was close…too close. I'll have to be more careful about this. If it takes more lies, I'll…I'll…I'll do it. _

They chatted animatedly while walking down the staircase to dinner. In truth, Hermione wasn't sure her stomach could take food. She was getting a really weird feeling in her stomach, like it was flipping up and down. She kept biting her lips awkwardly, heat rising in her face erratically as her heart pounded uncomfortably in her rib cage, which felt it might explode. Thoughts were pooling through her brain, spinning around and dancing on her tongue.

_What do I do if I ever get caught? What would I say? Everyone would hate me…Ron and Harry would laugh, Malfoy would sneer more than ever, and all my teachers would be disappointed in me. Ron, oh Ron, he'd look in me in disgust if he ever found out._

"Hermione?" Harry asked, waving his hand in her face. She blushed and smiled, Ron trying harder than ever to unsuccessfully conceal his laughter.

"Sorry…I was daydreaming." She replied, shrugging.

"We better get some food into you, and fast!" Harry said. He and Ron "dragged" her over to the table, where she took her spot in between them. The food was piled high on the golden plates, beckoning the students to devour it. And they did.

Ron and Harry wasted no time stuffing their faces, while Hermione took the more polite approach, though, if possible, eating just as much. They felt stuffed, there robes nearly busting at the seams.

"Aw man," Ron said, rubbing his stomach contentedly. "That was the best dinner I've had in forever." Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement, looking equally satisfied.

"Whew," Harry said, stifling a yawn. "I'm ready to go to bed."

"Nah, we can't, we have exams to study for," Ron pouted, looking thoroughly put-out.

"Well…I suppose I could do your homework for you again…" Hermione sighed, a small grin playing at her lips.

"What?" the boys turned to her unison, their jaws dropped to their utmost capacity.

"But it's only because I love you and you better worship the ground I walk on tomorrow." She said loftily. The boys both hugged her, and she giggled.

"We better get to the common room soon, then, maybe we'll have time to visit Hagrid for once before the holidays." Ron said brightly.

"Brilliant." Harry agreed. "All right, Miss Smarty-pants, let's put you to work." They linked arms again and then proceeded to the flight of stairs before they got to their common room. As they reached the top of the stairs, all of their smiling faces turned into scowls and all their laughter stopped instantly.

Their least favorite person stood in front of them, Draco Malfoy, wearing his trademark smirk.

"Happy to see me, Potter?" he spat.

"Couldn't be happier," Harry hissed sarcastically, reaching for his wand underneath his robes.

"No need for wands…_yet_." Draco said smugly, twisting his own wand between his fingers.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron growled.

"Oh, easy there, Weasel bee. You don't want to do something you'll regret later."

"I don't think hexing your sorry face into oblivion falls under the category of things I'll regret later."

"You shouldn't go around making empty threats, Weasley. I'm pretty sure that's why your father can't seem to secure a job to support your big-headed family."

"Don't talk about my dad." Ron snarled, pointing his wand at Malfoy's forehead and starting a curse.

"Don't," Hermione advised, grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm down. Suddenly she found herself lying on the ground, looking up at the ceiling. A pain shot through her jaw and she tasted something salty. As she slowly sat up, a stream of blood fell from her rapidly bruising lip.

"How dare you!" Harry hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "How dare you hit a girl?"

"You'll pay dearly for your lack of judgment." Ron hissed, brandishing his wand next to Harry's. Hermione just looked at Malfoy in astonishment.

_He hit me…I can't believe it…he hit me…_

"Oh, what's the matter, Mudblood?" Draco smirked. "Finally finding out that this world has no place for stupid little girls that can't measure up?"

"We don't care if she's perfect or not!" Ron bellowed. "We like her JUST THE WAY SHE IS!"

Hermione's welled up with tears. She let out a sob before running off, tears streaming down her face. She ran back down the stairs, everything just blurs as she passed them furiously. Furiously wiping away her white-hot tears, she threw open the door to the grounds ignoring all the sounds around her. She paused for a second just to look back.

Ron's big brown eyes bore into hers. "Hermione."

She screwed up her face in anger and ran out onto the grounds, the heavy door shutting behind her. She sobbed openly, collapsing on the ground and crying for what seemed hours, oblivious to all the rain drenching her. Curtains of ice-cold rain chilled her to the bone and stung her exposed skin, but she didn't care. She let the water slowly wash away all the blood from her face, all the tears, all the darkness she had been hiding from for so long….

"I'm not perfect…" she said softly, more hot tears falling down. "I'm not perfect…" She screamed it into the storming sky.

She shakily got to her feet, throwing off her cloak viciously and ripping off her tie. She slowly unbuttoned her shirt, standing there in her tank top. She yanked off her shoes and tore off her socks, feeling oddly exposed. She had to run away from all these internal demons that taunted her…the demons of perfection…

She looked up into the sky and let it wash everything away. All her hopes, dreams, hates, fears…She cried until there were no more tears left, just a feeling of bitterness in the deepest corner of her heart.

"I'll never be perfect enough to love…" she said softly. She took a deep breath and slowly spun around on her bare feet, rain pooling down on her face. Rain splashed around her, dancing around her feet. She shivered in the cold.

A pair of warm hands started to rub her bare shoulders. Another shiver went up her spine, but this one had nothing to do with the freezing water around her.

"Ron?" she said, her teeth shattering. Before she could say anything, she pulled her head to his chest, and his arms wrapped around her slim frame. He stroked her tangled hair gently with his fingers, letting her cry into his embrace. She swallowed back her sorrow and listened to the rhythm of their hearts beat together.

"Hermione…" he began. "I really can't say…what I want to; I can't describe how I feel…"

"Neither can I." she whispered, searching his brown eyes for answers. "Of all the books I've ever read, and there's a lot, believe me, nothing has ever provided me with this feeling. But I guess I should've guessed that. The dry pages of a book can only hold words, and I know this is going to sound really cliché and stupid, but words can't really describe how I feel about you." A red tinge rose into her white face.

Ron looked at her thoughtfully for a minute, and then his freckled face broke into a smile. "You're right, Hermione. Words can't describe how I feel about you. But…" he paused, cupping her cheek with his hand and stroking it fondly with his thumb. "Actions can."

And with that, he swept her off her feet, twirled her around in the pouring rain, and did what all of Hogwarts had been waiting for…Ron Weasley kissed Hermione Granger.


	5. Imperfect Angel

**Chapter Five**

"We should go inside." Ron whispered to the quaking figure in his arms.

"Y-yeah," Hermione replied through chattering teeth. He smiled at her fondly and bent down to retrieve her robes.

_She's beautiful_, he thought, lips simpering. _Her moonlit skin white and exposed, her perfect figure like an exquisite doll…those scarlet lips begging to be caressed…sweet, buttery pink chinks waiting to be stroked, and her silky tresses that linger in patience to be parted by a lover's fingers._

"Ron, honey, are you all right?" Hermione giggled, cupping his chin and lifting it gently to close his open mouth.

Butterflies ignited in his stomach and swam around as her fingers slipped and left his skin. His throat swelled and dried. He licked his parched lips as he stared longingly at her bid red full ones, parted in a smile.

_Hermione, you are an angel._

"Ron, are you sure you're okay?"

_No, I'm lovesick._

"Hermione…" he began weakly.

"Yes?"

"Will you…would you…be my girl?" his voice seemed to raise three pitches at the final request.

_Great. That was just too perfect. _

"Ron, who could I deny you when I've never kissed like that in my life? I would be honored to be your girl." She leaned forward slowly, Ron's mouth watering with every inch, and her lips finally locked with his. She gently massaged his swollen lips with hers, then almost immediately released them. He practically whimpered he wanted her so badly. But instead of toying with his lips, she grabbed his hand and pulled him up from the soggy grass.

"Let's go to the castle." He nodded mutely.

_Please kiss me again…please…_

"Uh…here are your robes," he said awkwardly, handing her a thoroughly soaked bundle.

"Thanks," she said, squeezing his hand and tucking the clothes in the crook of her arm. His undisciplined eyes ran up and down her perfect white arms.

"HERMIONE!"

"What!" she asked, alarmed.

"Your arm…" he trailed off.

"What…what's wrong with my arm?"

He replied by lifting her wrist into the light. Ragged cuts raked up her skin; the bright scarlet rips were obviously inflicted intentionally. She swallowed hard and tried to pull away, but Ron had anticipated this and held tightly. He ran his long fingers over the raised scabs gently. She winced and wretched her arm away, rubbing it nervously.

"Look, I just had an accident in Care of Magical Creatures," she said.

"Really?" he asked mildly, raising his eyebrow.

"Ronald Weasley, are you calling me a liar!"

One look into her blazing glare gave him the answer.

"Sorry…" he muttered, gently hugging her shoulders. "I just…well…it's not very often you make mistakes."

"Let's go inside," she said softly. The hurt in her voice seared across his vulnerable heart with a sharp edge.

"Hermione," he begged, fondling her locks. "I didn't mean it like that. Hermione, you're an angel. You're _my _angel. Please, I think you're perfect."

He leaned forward to kiss her, but she turned away, biting her lip. Ron didn't need to see her face to tell she was crying.

_The crying girl who wasn't an angel at all, but an imperfect imposter. _


	6. Boys Are Obnoxious

_Chapter Six_

"So what did McGonagall say when she heard Malfoy hit Hermione?"

"Well, you know, she freaked. Malfoy is sentenced to three weeks of detention, and he lost Slytherin fifty points."

"Fifty? Wicked."

"What were you doing out there? You were outside for three hours!"

"Uh…"

"How's Hermione?"

"I don't know. She seemed okay after I comforted her—"

"'Comforted'? Ron—"

"----but then she, um, flipped out."

"Maybe the cold was getting to her."

"Maybe."

Ron blew his nose and moved adjusted his damp shirt by the crackling fire in the Gryffindor common room. Harry had woken up when Ron had attempted to sneak past him in the boys' dormitories, and was now helping him dry out his clothes. Rain was still pouring down heavily on the castle and both boys were shivering slightly.

"We should go to bed," Harry insisted.

"I won't be able to sleep, but you should, Harry."

"Nah…I'll stay up with you."

"Thanks, mate." A misty silence lapsed on.

"So…" Harry began deviously. "Since we have a couple hours before we're due to wake up, would you mind explaining to me exactly what happened between you two?"

Ron sighed, smiling reminiscently.

"All right, so we're going out."

"Finally!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon, Ron, the whole school knows you two like each other."

Ron's face knotted into a snarl as if he were about to snap out an angry retort, but then surrendered into a softer expression.

"Is it really that obvious?"

Harry roared with laughter before answering. "If only you knew, Ron…"

"Whatever." Ron sighed as Harry grinned.

"Be specific, Ron. What happened?"

"We just…kissed."

"Was it one of those big Hollywood kisses?"

"Hollywood? What's that? Some new wizarding school?"

"No," Harry shook his head impatiently. "Forget I said that. What I meant was, did you use your tongue?"

"What! No, of course not! Where did you get such an idea?"

"Ron." Harry looked at him doubtfully.

"Okay, so maybe I used it a little bit."

"Right. You were all over her."

"She wouldn't let me."

"But you thought about it."

Ron grinned. "Yeah."

Harry shook his head. "But you're definitely officially going out with her now."

Ron nodded. "I hope she's okay…"

"What happened?'

"Well…a lot. But to make a long story short, I hurt her feelings."

"What? How?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but I touched a nerve."

"Nice."

"What do I do? I could tell she was doing the whole-bottling-up-her-emotions thing again."

"Well…" Harry scratched his head. "You got to do something before she explodes."

"Obviously."

"All right, I've got an idea."

"Do tell…"

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"RISE AND SHINE SLEEPING BEAUTY!"

Hermione groaned and threw her covers over her smarting eyes. She rolled over onto her side and felt an unfamiliar crunch.

"Whaaa…?" she looked groggily at the crumpled envelope under her ribcage. The creamy thick paper was sealed with an exclusive deep red rose seal of wax. She turned it over and her brown eyes grew wide.

**_Hermione_**

"Hermione! What are you doing under there?"

She stuffed the letter frantically under her pillow a nano-second before a big, grinning face framed by flaming red curls appeared from under the hem of her covers.

"Good morning, Ginny," Hermione said halting, wincing as sun was again thrust into her eyes.

"C'mon, we're going to miss breakfast!"

"To tell you the truth, I really don't care," Hermione replied, yawning as she grabbed her covers from Ginny and snuggled back into bed.

"You _will_ once I'm done with you," Ginny retorted, snatching the sheets and throwing them on the ground, out of her exhausted friend's reach.

Hermione reluctantly rolled onto her stomach. "It's the weekend, Ginny," she pleaded.

"Exactly! The elves make the best food on Saturday!" Ginny insisted, tugging at Hermione's wrist.

"Oh all right," Hermione surrendered, quite literally tumbling out of bed.

"So…" Ginny began casually as they climbed down the staircase. "I hear you're going out with my brother?"

"WHAT!" Hermione sputtered, flushing red and betraying the answer.

"Ha! So it is true."

"H-how'd you find out?" Hermione whispered, looking around as if invisible spies had suddenly surrounded her.

"Hermione, honestly. You and Ron have been one of the most watched couples in Hogwart's history. You should have a plaque or something in the trophy room or something for crying out loud."

"Who started this gossip?"

"Dunno…"

"Oi! Hermione! Ginny!" Ron's familiar voice called, his arms waving stupidly over his head.

"Good morning, Ron," Hermione said, greeting him with a peck on the cheek. He grinned and his ears turned their trademark pink. He wrapped his long, thin arms around her slender waist and coaxed her into his lap. Students throughout the room caught glimpse of this and smirked at each other knowingly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "All right, you tow, don't get too comfortable now."

Ron laughed. "Yes, daddy, Harry."

Harry sighed hopelessly and all three laughed.

"Hey, Harry?" Ginny questioned. "When are you having Quidditch tryouts?'

Harry lost his color rapidly. "I dunno…aw man…I have to replace a lot of players this year and I'm captain…"

"Relax." Ron said through a mouth of potatoes. "Hey, I sucked last year and we still managed to scrap a couple of wins."

"I don't want to 'scrap' this year; I want to leave the field smoking."

"Good luck," Ginny snorted. "With my brother playing keeper again this year, the only smoking you'll be getting will be from his defective wand."

Chortling, she walked off to join a group of Hufflepuff girls, Ron's beady eyes glaring after her.

"Forget about it," Hermione said soothingly, stroking the ends of his hair delicately.

"Ginny's right, though."

"What!" Ron jumped up from his seat, flabbergasted. Harry eyed him mildly as a few first-years screamed and the whole school stared.

"Ron, I wasn't talking about your Quidditch abilities, I meant Ginny's comment about getting our new team."

"Oh," Ron said in a small voice, blushing to a purplish hue and taking his seat. The chattering eventually subsided.

"Anyway," Harry continued as though nothing has happened, "I need to refurbish the Quidditch team."

"Who are you missing?" Hermione asked innocently.

"I need a whole new set of beaters _and _two new chasers." Harry groaned and slammed his head into his open Potions book.

"Don't worry, mate," Ron reassured him. "This school is bloody huge; someone out there has to be good."

"But will they be good enough?"

"Ginny's good," Hermione insisted. "I'm sure she'll be eager to try out for chaser."

"That's true," Harry agreed, somewhat brightened.

"You just need someone with big enough brains to watch a ball and hit it. You don't have to be exactly skilled or anything to be a beater." Ron added.

"Fred and George were skilled," Harry said wistfully.

"Would everyone stop talking about my siblings?" Ron growled, obviously still fuming about the events minutes ago.

"What's the matter, ickle ronekins?"

"Wish you were good enough to be mentioned in civil conversation?"

"Fred? George?" Ron asked blankly. His jaw dropped as he spotted his mother, father, and older brother Charlie hurrying in not too far behind the twins.

"What's up, little brother?" Charlie said, ruffling Ron's neatly combed hair.

"Harry, 'Mione," Mr. Weasley said politely, shaking their hands. Mrs. Weasley practically burst into tears and fussed over the three of them, only pausing to congratulate Hermione and Ron.

"What are you guys doing here?" Harry asked, grinning.

"Dumbledore's business," they replied in unison.

"I hope its something explosive," George said, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

"Utterly destructive, more like," Fred said, cackling in an unnerving wicked way.

"See ya!' they said, walking off to the teacher's table.

"Ron, why didn't you tell us your family was coming?" Harry demanded.

"I didn't know." Ron replied honestly.

"I wonder what they're doing for Dumbledore." Hermione mused.

"They're fooling around, stupid prats," Ron muttered bitterly.

"I think it's brilliant."

"You know, the DiAngelo twins are pretty good."

"You mean those Italian twins who are always playing soccer in the corridors?" The two had suddenly reverted back to Quidditch.

"Yeah, them. They don't look very big, but they're solid and their teamwork should be excellent."

"True…true…are you sure they're in Gryffindor? Both of them?"

"I'm positive."

"Wicked. All right, that leaves just one chaser…"

"Well, we already have Ginny and Katie, finding just one hopefully won't be too hard…"

"I'll be your chaser."

"What?" Harry practically choked.

"Well, I've sort of gotten into it, and I practiced over the Holidays, within the muggle laws, of course…"

Harry and Ron burst out laughing.

"Good one, Hermione," Ron snorted, wiping away tears of mirth from his eyes.

"I'm serious."

That shut both of them up.

"Hermione, you can't, you're a…" Ron tapered off uncomfortably.

"A what?" Hermione demanded acidly. "A girl!"

"No. It's just…" Harry tried to explain.

"It's just what?"

"You're not exactly the Quidditch type…"

"Really?" Hermione hissed.

"You're more of the studying-knitting-hats-for-elves-type."

"You think I can't play Quidditch?"

"Hermione, I _know_ you can't play Quidditch."

Hermione gasped and her arms fell limply at her sides. Her bottom lip covered. She was shocked. How could he say that?

She turned on her heel, leaving Harry's cheek a glowing red.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hermione hugged her knees tightly to her chest and stared up at the mediocre grey sky. Her chest was heavy and her breath labored. Life wasn't fair-boys _had_ to be stupid and she just _had_ to be best friends with two of them. But why did the fact that she was a girl have to come in between their friendship? A difference in gender shouldn't be enough to warrant stereotypes-especially from her two best friends.

She desperately wanted something to take her mind off of boys. Even thinking about them gave her a headache. Suddenly, Crookshanks jumped into her lap.

"How's my Crookshanks?' she gushed, massaging her cat's frizzy ginger fur. Crookshanks purred contentedly and dropped a parcel into her hand.

"What's this?" she held it up to her face. She recognized the fancy cursive lettering of the crumpled envelope instantly. She decided the time to open it was now and eagerly unwrapped it, though carefully avoided ripping it. A neatly folded letter lay inside. She unfolded it, suspense mounting. She couldn't believe what she saw.

"Who in their right mind would send a blank letter with this kind of fancy writing? Wait-maybe it's written in invisible ink?" Elated, Hermione bent over and reached for her wand.

Someone rapped on the locked door loudly. Crookshanks hissed and dug her sharp claws into Hermione's forearm.

"OUCH! CROOKSHANKS!" Hermione cried angrily, cradling her arm and knocking the cat off of her. She looked down at her right arm as Crookshanks scampered away. Blood dripped freely from the three ragged gashes. A drop landed on the opened letter.

"Well there goes the invisible ink theory," she sighed.

"Hermione!" Ginny called. "Come out! I'll use my wand if I have to!"

"I'm com-" she stopped in mid-sentence and her eyes widened.

The bloodstain had sunk into the paper and was now forming a message.

_**Meet me at eight. I'll be waiting by the…**_

"_Alohomora_!" the door burst open.

"Hermione, the Hogsmeade trip is in five minutes!" Ginny said, her hands on her hips. "Hey, what's this?"

She snatched the paper and scrutinized it.

"It's nothing, Hermione muttered, trying to grab it.

"Whatever." Ginny said, throwing the blank paper back onto Hermione's bed. "Let's go!"

She grabbed Hermione's wrist and dragged her off, second after she had snagged a glance back.

_**I'll be waiting for you, Hermione.**_

A/N: hey guys! Sorry I've been gone so long. School, you know? Anyways, had a sick day today so I finished this up and chapter seven and eight. I'll hopefully be able to post them sooner, depending on availability of time and reviews! (wink, wink)


	7. A Battle of Wits

_Chapter Seven _

"Hermione, please!" Ron begged, clutching her hand. "Please don't be like this. Just stop and listen to me for a second!"

"Ooooh, Ronald Weasley, if you'd only slowed down in your 'I'm-so-macho-Quidditch-player-crap', then maybe I would have the patience to let you take up my time! But you didn't think about that, did you? All you cared about was your stupid self and how good you looked in front of everyone else!"

"You're right, Hermione! I was a total prat and I really want to say I'm sorry. Can we please talk?"

"NO! If I calm down then you'll just get that idea in your big stupid over-blown red-head that you can do and say whatever you want and I'll still come crawling back! I'm not like that, Ron! I don't ever want you to think that!"

"Hermione, I never have though you were like that! I wouldn't date a girl who didn't have a mind of her own. That was one of the first things I liked about you. But now it seems you've got no mind at all!"

"Ron, I know I can act stupid, too, but this has gone too far. Can't you understand how much you've hurt me?"

"Yes, that's why I'm trying to apologize. I'm trying really hard to understand-"

"You'll never understand!"

"That's because you won't let me! You keep pushing me out because you're so obsessed with being a perfect little smart a! I'm just as good as you! What are you trying to prove? Do you think you're better than me? Because you're not. You're just a stuck-up…MUDBLOOD!"

Hermione's books dropped. A cold silence followed.

"Oh no…Hermione, no…I didn't mean that-"

"Yes…yes, you did."

"Please, Hermione, I…"

She closed her eyes, cheeks shining with tears, and departed in silence. Suddenly perfection didn't seem so appealing anymore.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Hermione's POV

I stared sullenly back at my reflection in the cracked mirror of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. My eyes were swollen and red, my cheeks flushed and puffy, and my hair was an absolute mess. And yet, as heinous as I looked, nothing could compare to the appearance of my heart. Ripped, bleeding, torn…never to be whole again. My eyes traveled down to my arm and I gently lifted my robes.

With my other hand, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a knife I'd stolen from breakfast earlier. Swallowing hard, I admired its glint in the dull lighting. I slowly lifted my finger and stroked the knife's edge. A thin stream of blood ran down it. I ran my tongue across my teeth and let my robes fall back down. I _had_ to stop this. It was getting me nowhere.

_Do it._

My fists clenched and my breath quickened, but I resisted. My arms, hanging limply at my sides, shook violently.

_Just let the pain win. It's stronger than you. Make it easier on yourself._

"No!" I screamed aloud. "I-I won't! I'm not listening to you anymore!"

My whole body wracked with sobs, I fell to the ground. Silence rang through my ears as the tears fell wordlessly onto the cold, damp ground. I opened my eyes- and there it was- my milky white skin, untarnished and full, and the knife…lying an innocent two inches away.

_Don't stop._

I gritted my teeth and dug the knife into my forearm. My fingernails scratched across the ground as I screamed in agony. Thrusting my teeth into my swollen lips, I slowly carved the word that had been echoing through my head for what seemed like hours. MUDBLOOD.

I watched shakily as the blood fled from the cursed engraving and sighed as more tears came. Was this enough? No…nothing would ever be enough. It still stung as though he was whispering it over and over again in my era. I couldn't believe those foul words had lashed across me from the mouth of the man I loved. I slowly lifted my chin and looked at the mirror shamefully.

"I hate you." I hissed at my reflection. My image just glared back at me. I jumped to my feet in rage and plunged my fist into the mirror. The pieces chimed as they hit the ground and became covered by my dripping blood.

_Can nothing stop this pain?_

I sank to my knees and wept bitterly, wiping my bloody knuckles on my worn-put jeans. I suddenly noticed that my pocket was bulging. I curiously pulled out the crumpled paper and unfolded it, realizing immediately as the letter I'd received earlier. I wiped it viciously across my wounded forearm. Wincing, I watched the message reappear gradually.

_Meet me at eight. I'll be waiting by the Shrieking Shack. I'll be waiting for you, Hermione. _

I glanced at my watch. 7:30. I had better start moving.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX End POV

Ron groaned and threw himself onto the plushy red armchair of the Gryffindor Common room. Could he have been a bigger prat? That was the most downright stupidest thing he could've said. And yet that was what he- Ronald Weasley- tended to always do.

"Hey, mate. What's up?" Harry asked, taking the seat nearest to him.

"Hermione." Ron sighed bitterly, throwing bits of paper at the fire.

"Again?"

"Women are so…impossible!"

Harry raised his brow. "I'm guessing it was your fault she stormed off in a murderous rampage?"

Ron sighed resignedly. "Yup."

"What is it _this_ time?"

"This morning."

"Oh…yeah." Harry said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I acted like the witless wonder, but I was going to give Hermione more time to cool off and then think about what I was going to say."

"Maybe I should have done the same," Ron said miserably.

"What _did_ you do?"

"I…well…I…I sort of called her something…I shouldn't have…"

"You didn't!" Harry looked at Ron's face and confirmed his fears. "Oh, no, Ron, you didn't!" His head sank into his hands. "I don't even know where to _begin _on that one…"

"Thanks, Harry." Ron snarled. "You're making me feel loads better!"

"You just completely missed the point, Ron!"

"What's the point?"

"'What's the point?' What do you mean 'what's the point?' You just called Hermione a mudblood, that's the point!"

Ron moaned. "What am I going to do, Harry? I'm acting completely mental!"

Harry sighed. "Well, Ron, you're in a bit of a right state. You should honestly give yourself some time to think about what you're going to say and then we'll go look for Hermione."

"Okay," Ron agreed weakly. Harry patted his back reassuringly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione kicked up snow awkwardly with her boots. Apparating into Hogsmeade was an easy task; it was just sneaking out of the castle to do so. She had run into Snape twice in the hallways. It was odd that he always seemed to turn up when she was steeping out of line. But that was no matter- she managed to slip past him and was now on her way.

She nervously gripped the wand in her pocket. Meeting someone in Hogsmeade at this hour was suspicious. She had her wand and a couple extra tricks, but was she prepared? And for what?

**Crunch.**

Hermione jumped and whipped out her wand, looking frantically to either side. A twig snapped somewhere close in the nearby forest. She turned sharply to face it, but saw nothing except her own breath rising as mist before her.

_What am I doing? This is stupid. I'm going to meet someone I don't know, in the middle of the night, alone._

She turned on her heel apprehensively and apparated, landing a few feet away from the castle. She took a hurried step forward, her heart pounding. The snow crunched behind her and she flinched, frozen in terror.

"Leaving so soon, Miss Granger?"

In the next second, Hermione found herself staring at the wintry sky, Bellatrix Lestrange laughing raucously and brandishing her wand.

"Get up!"

Hermione's body tensed and she felt an unfamiliar choking sensation as she was forced to her feet.

"_Impedimenta_!" Hermione cried.

Bellatrix was blown off her feet, but she regained her footing quickly. Though unscathed, she glared with the frantic madness of a convicted Death Eater. They begin circling around each other, waiting for the other to strike.

"Mind if I call you Bella?" Hermione asked casually.

"Mind if I call you Mudblood?" she shot back.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

Bellatrix laughed coolly. "The feelings are mutual. _Reducto_!"

Hermione blocked the spell with the flick of her wrist.

Bellatrix's lips curled into a twisted smirk. "Nice one. But enough with the first years spells, Granger. Even _you_ can do better than that."

"But why move up now? Surely you remember being kicked out in your first year. Dear, dear Bella, I believe in fair play."

"I don't. _Crucio_!"

Hermione dodged the spell easily, the red spark streaming through the inky night and setting a tree on fire.

"I wonder why people are so afraid of you. You're supposed to the best of the best, am I right? And yet…I have the upper-hand I can understand losing to Dumbledore, but this is just sad."

"This is a mere game, silly girl. I wouldn't dream of bringing myself down to your level and dueling with such an unworthy opponent."

Hermione grinned. "What are you waiting for? Let's play. _Petrificus Totalus_!"

Bellatrix neatly sidestepped the curse, laughing derisively. "That was easy. What the matter, mudblood? Too scared to hurt me?"

Hermione smiled. "Oh, that's a good one, Bella. Scared? I've fought way too many death eaters to even come _close_ to being scared."

"Sure," Bellatrix agreed. "But none of those death eaters were me. In fact, if I remember correctly, when we first met, you were lying on the ground in a heap."

Hermione laughed airily. "I'd rather be unconscious in a heap than face the Dark Lord and tell him that you'd failed. _Again_."

"That's not going too happen. Not this time. Besides, it's not like this is a 'mission'. Its _fun_." She paused for a moment, circling Hermione, and then continued in her supremely annoying high-pitched baby voice. "Poor widdle mudbwood. Did woo think woo mattered to the Dark Word? Or anyone, for that matter."

"Don't be stupid." Hermione hissed. "He lured me out here so I'd run into you. He sent me that letter!"

Bellatrix's pitiless cackle ran out darkly across the empty landscape.

"You? The Dark Lord send a letter to you?" she repeated, sounding as though she couldn't believe her own words. "A filthy little mudblood such as you could only dream of such glory."

"Then…why…w-why are you here?"

"I know nothing of your 'letter', but you are simply in my way."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, what is it this time? No, no wait…let me guess," she hissed sardonically, pretending to ponder. "You burn a house down, leave the dark mark over it, buy a butter beer and leave. Voldemort really does keep you busy, doesn't he? Being his must trusted servant and all."

"_Stupefy_!"

The red beam missed Hermione by inches.

"SHUT.YOUR. FILTHY.MOUTH!" Bellatrix spat, her words dripping with venom and hatred. "I don't do the dark lord's dirty work. I'm here for real work." She gritted her teeth. "And you…are in my way."

"Good. Let's keep it that way."

"Don't flatter yourself into thinking you'd last that long."

"What? Did you just expect me to let you win? To run away, crying?"

Bellatrix shrugged indifferently. "Mudblood, coward. What's the difference?"

"SHUT UP!" Hermione screamed, taking aim with her wand. "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Bellatrix blocked it lazily with her wand, grinning. The emotional upper-hand- the more important upper-hand- was in her possession.

"Pity, pity," Bellatrix sighed with mock-sadness. "They say you're the brightest witch of your age, but I must confess myself…disappointed. I guess I should've set my standards a little lower, seeing that you've grown soft and fallen in love with a muggle lover."

Hermione's fists clenched. "Don't you dare bring Ron into this."

"But why not?" Bellatrix asked conversationally. "He's _obviously_ a part of this; it's written all over your dirty little face. Didn't _anyone_ teach you not to show your opponents your weaknesses? Or was that something you couldn't ever learn?"

"This is a battle between us, Bella. Unless you feel too weak to fight me alone- in which case I will be happy to oblige- let's keep others out."

Bellatrix laughed. "Come off it. This is as much a battle of emotional strength as it is of wit."

"Wit? Emotional strength?" Hermione scoffed. "You have demonstrated neither, Bella."

Bellatrix shook her head. "Your responses grow weaker and weaker."

"Yeah?" Hermione snarled. "Your comments aren't that witty anymore, either. _Stupefy_!"

"Finally, we get to the wand work. _Crucio_!"

"_Impedimenta_!"

"_Reducto_!"

"_Secumsemptra!"_

"Ooh, a dark spell. Don't even try, mudblood. The dark arts are a concise subject you could never hope to understand. Let me show you how it's really done. _Avada-"_

"_Expelliarmus_!"

In a flash of green light, Bellatrix had landed in the snow; face first, her wand lying a few feet away. Hermione made an attempt to grab it, but Bellatrix was too quick. She looked up at Hermione, maniacal madness dancing wildly in her eyes.

"You're growing pale, mudblood. Finally realizing you can't win? Or is there something else…something _cut_ a little deeper…" Hermione's arm was revealed from the safety of her robe. She looked on in horror as the scars gleamed in the bright moonlight.

Bellatrix examined the arm curiously. Hermione desperately tried to cover it up, but no sooner had she done so when the other arm was lifted and the robes fell back. Bellatrix clicked her tongue.

"Now _this_ is a new twist of things. Little Hermione, Hogwart's best bookworm…a cutter?"

Hermione slapped her hands off. "You're uglier than a worm and lower than the dirt it lies in!"

"How dare you." Bellatrix hissed darkly. "You, a mudblood, question my superiority? You're about to find out that this casual game of wits has grown into a war of witchcraft! _Avada Kedavra_!"

"_Reducto_!" The spells bounced off each other.

"You know," Bellatrix sighed. "It is a pity that after all your years at Hogwarts; you've failed to learn the lesson that could've spared your life."

"And what is that, Bella? If you run into a Death Eater, pack a few witty comments and simple shield spells up your sleeve?"

"LEARN. YOUR. PLACE, MUDBLOOD!" she flung herself at Hermione, knocking the latter to the ground. She pulled out her wand, digging it into Hermione's forehead until the skin broke.

Hermione screamed and threw Bellatrix off, clutching her bleeding forehead.

"Does it hurt, mudblood? Here, let me help you take your mind off of it. That always helps, you know. _Crucio_!"

In that moment, Hermione lost all sense of everything except an all-consuming pain. A thousand bolts of pain surged through her every nerve, white-hot knives stabbed into her every pore and dug in. her brain was replaced with a super-nova of raw agony and the only semi-coherent thoughts possible were death wishes. She grabbed her head, screamed, and writhed, hoping her skull wouldn't split in half.

"_Crucio_!"

Hermione rolled onto her stomach, moaning feebly. She pried her hands off of her face, surprised that shards of skull didn't peel off as well. It was over.

"Ah yes…the Cruciatus curse. Possibly my favorite Unforgivable Curse. Now I'm sure you've heard of, possibly even have studied, these curses, no? But you could never fully understand them. However, they do say that experience is the best teacher. You should be on your knees thanking me, Granger. I know how much you _love_ learning. Get down on your knees and thank me!"

Though Bellatrix used her wand, Hermione wouldn't budge.

"Never."

"Well, fine…if you want to stand on the ground…" Bellatrix made her way over to the fallen witch, gently resting her iron-clad boot on her upper-stomach. "Have it your way."

Hermione grimaced as her ribs crunched.

"Now, let's try this again. Get on your knees, mudblood!"

"NO."

In fleeting fury, Bellatrix grabbed Hermione's head and smashed her into the gritty stone walls of the castle. Hermione's chin split open, her blood spilling onto Bellatrix's bare white hands, mixing with another salty liquid. Tears.

"Finally breaking, mudblood?" Bellatrix whispered into her ear. "Why don't you just call for Ron? I'm sure he'll be happy to wipe away all your tears."

"Stop." Hermione cried. "Please stop."

Bellatrix threw her to the ground, her head slapping the cold solid ice.

"_Crucio_!"

Hermione braced herself to endure once more, but the spell never hit her. She slowly opened her eyes and saw a blurry white-faced Bellatrix looking on in confusion. A wolf stood next to the teen, growling at the death eater.

"You fought admirably, Miss Hermione," it said gruffly.

"Thanks," she said weakly. The world gently licked her face and then ran up to Bellatrix, planted its large paws on her chest, and brought her to the ground. Hermione's vision began to tunnel and slowly her world ebbed away into the realm of unconsciousness.


	8. Recovery

Yo guys, sorry it's been so long, but I needed to rewrite chapter seven and that took forever, plus the typing…anyways, to all those who read the original chapter seven, I decided it sucked, deleted it, and replaced it with a completely different plot line. Please read it before reading this so it makes sense!

_Chapter Eight_

"It was lucky you came when you did, Lucas."

"I wish I could've come sooner, but I was given specific instructions."

"Specific instructions? From who?"

"The minister."

"The minister!"

"Yes, sir. I was not allowed to step in unless she attempted an Unforgivable Curse on the girl."

"That is an outrage! She could've been killed before you had the chance to do anything. The _Avada Kedavra_ curse works instantly, you of course would know that."

"Yes, but I was under the minister's orders. A violation of such orders would've resulted in the loss of my job."

"A girl's life depended on it!"

"I am well aware of this, Headmaster. I deeply regret the circumstances and I must again apologize. But how is the girl? She fought well."

"Yes, Miss Granger has always performed well. She is an exceptional student."

"Is she still unconscious?"

"Yes, I believe so. I am near certain her last fall cause a concussion. Besides, the Cruciatus curse is a very hard thing to endure, especially at her young age."

"Did she suffer any further injuries?

"A couple broken ribs, but Madam Pomfrey will be able to mend them in a moment. Her chin, though," Dumbledore clicked his tongue sadly. "She split it open and the cut is fairly severe."

"I suppose that you're waiting until she's conscious before she is given medical attention?"

"Yes, that is the plan, Lucas."

"But why? Such wounds can become easily infected."

"I am aware of that, Lucas. But as you should also know, when Bellatrix pierced Miss Granger's forehead, she left a mark that could be easily tracked by the ministry and I think Azkaban has been missing a large amount of death eaters."

"So now we wait?"

"So now we wait."

The conversation traveled through Hermione's muddled brain, echoing vaguely and making little sense. She felt something soft and warm pressed against her body. Her nose prickled as she recognized Ginny's flowery aroma and then…some smell that she remembered but couldn't quite identify…something strangely akin to dragon skin…

Hermione's chocolate brown eyes fluttered open.

"Finally awake, 'Mione? You gave us a right good scare there."

"Nah, we weren't too worried. We knew you'd turn up in a week or two- dead or alive."

Fred and George, wearing their signature dragon skin robes. She should've known.

Hermione's lips parted into a grin and everyone laughed.

"How are you feeling, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her skin blanched and on the seeming verge of nervous collapse. She grabbed a plaid blanket and pulled it up over Hermione's legs. "Ron's been holding you here for a good eight hours."

Hermione looked up at Ron, who smiled back down at her fondly. His hand was gently cupping her chin.

Mrs. Weasley practically burst into tears. "You poor dear! You're all beaten up and that Headmaster won't do anything about it! I'd sew you up myself if I knew how…"

"Was Bellatrix as ugly as you remembered?" George asked.

"He fancies her, you know." Fred said.

Mr. Weasley made his way over to her and sat on his knees.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see you, Hermione. Can you walk?"

Hermione coughed, her throat sore and thick with blood. Unable to find words, she shrugged.

"I'll carry her," Ron volunteered, his voice hoarse.

"No, Ron," Mr. Weasley said, setting his hand gently on his son's shoulder. "You might break the scab on her chin if you move."

The room grew silent as Professor Dumbledore stepped in.

"You can be assured that the scab will not break, Arthur," he said. "If Mr. Ron Weasley would please bring Miss Granger to my office; I'd like to get this done as soon as possible."

Mr. Weasley nodded and turned to Ron. "Go ahead, son."

Ron nodded and stood on his feet. Hermione's stomach swooped as he lifted her.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Harry asked, noticing the look on her face. She nodded and held tightly to Ron's arm. They exited the room slowly, six pairs of eyes burning into Ron's neck. The door creaked shut behind them.

The pictures on the wall began to chatter eagerly as they passed, but neither of them spoke. The dull, empty hallways were thick with mid-day darkness and silence. The sound of Ron's shoes squeaking as they pressed against the thick rugs lining the floors seemed as though it had been magnified several times.

"You're an amazing witch, you know," Ron said, more to himself than the girl in his arms. "It must have taken a lot of…courage…to do what you did. You know, stare into the eyes of a death eater and even hex them. A-and you endured an Unforgivable Curse. You really are well-placed in the Gryffindor House."

Hermione wanted to thank him, but her voice had yet to return.

"But me," Ron said with difficulty. "I just let you walk out and leave. I just stood there mutely as you left. I really am a coward."

Hermione's heart grew cold at the word.

"It's hard to think that the last thing you could've heard from me was that…bloody curse word! Mum and Dad didn't tell you, but you could've died, Hermione! When that Aldair-guy came in, and he laid you in my arms…blood caked on your chin and forehead…I don't know, Hermione! I waited those long eight hours afraid of what might happen…afraid that the heart beating against mine would stop…afraid that the skin I held would lose its blush and warmth…I was afraid that if I closed my eyes, I'd open them up again and you'd be dead." Ron choked and fell to his knees. The boy she had known for six years was crumbling before her eyes. Tears splashed onto her chest as the sadness he'd been hiding spilled from his gorgeous blue eyes.

Hermione reached up and stroked his soft cheeks with her fingers, gently washing away the tears. She rubbed her cheek against his and then locked her lips onto his.

"I love you, Hermione."

She nodded and rested her hand on his chest. Ron cleared his throat and stood on his feet.

"Sugar quills."

The portrait in front of Dumbledore's office swung open, beckoning them inside. Ron stepped into the room cautiously, his eyes darting from the curious trinkets bobbing around the dark blue office.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted. "Please, take a seat."

On cue, a chair slid behind Ron. He sat down, staring in wonderment.

"Yes, my useless rubbish is fascinating," Dumbledore began. "But we are not here to indulge our curiosity. We are here for the grave talk of a death eater. I believe Miss Granger had the misfortune to run into Bellatrix Lestrange last night."

Ron and Hermione nodded. Dumbledore stood from his seat and began to pace, stroking his long white beard thoughtfully, his resemblance to a philosopher uncanny.

"Only about ten or so years back, the ministry discovered a most useful tool in catching dark wizards and witches. You see, when one of these dark wizards would cut the skin of another with their wand- directly or indirectly- it would leave a mark so powerful and unique that it was easily traced by the ministry. It greatly improved the accuracy and testing of accusations of such crimes and it has become an invaluable resource. Now, miss Granger, I have been informed by Mr. Lucas Aldair, the man who rescued you last night, that Bellatrix made the mistake of penetrating your forehead through such means. If this is true, Miss Lestrange will find herself in the company of her fellows in Azkaban very soon. However, the execration of this mark can be very painful. Are you still willing to continue?"

Hermione bit her lip and swallowed hard, grabbing Ron's hand. She nodded.

"Good. Now, this process will go much faster if you're lying down." A chair slid out of nowhere while Dumbledore walked off, immediately propping back her legs. She relaxed and rested her head on Ron's lap, still cleaving tightly to his hand.

"Ah…here we are. Miss Granger, please inhale the fumes of this potion. It will ease any pain you may experience." Dumbledore uncorked the deep sapphire vial, midnight-colored mist rising and curling around his twinkling blue eyes, he held it to her nose. The aroma was pleasant lavender. Suddenly, all her muscles relaxed and her eyelids became heavy, blurring her vision. Dumbledore recapped the bottle and walked off, returning with a glinting knife and his wand.

Hermione shuddered, her stomach churning nervously.

"Don't worry about this old thing. It's too dull to cut your skin; I'm simply going to use it to scrape away the blood and scabs around the wound. I'll warn you when the time comes," he explained solemnly.

He bent over, parted her bangs, and began to gently scrape away the dried blood with the side of the knife. Her nerves jangled in suspense, waiting for the slightest prick to emit screaming signals of pain to her brain.

"Ah yes- now I can see it. A nasty little cut right under your hairline. All right, Miss Granger, this will only take a moment."

Hermione looked fearfully into Ron's eyes.

_How am I going to do this?_ She pleaded with her eyes.

_You're going to do this with me_, he replied, rubbing the top of her hand and squeezing it. She closed her eyes tightly.

"Ready, Miss Granger?"

Dumbledore did not wait for an answer; he simply plunged his wand into the wound. Hermione choked and dug her nails into Ron's hand. Dumbledore ripped out the wand and immediately cast a spell. A bright, red light shot out of the wand, projecting the image of a crescent moon.

"Ah, the crescent moon," Dumbledore sighed. "This is interesting. But enough of my thoughts. Mr. Weasley, if you would, please take Miss Granger back to hospital wing. I am sure Madam Pomfrey will be happy to finally treat her."

Ron nodded and once more swept Hermione off of her feet. The portrait shut behind them, sealing the deed that had been done. Ron walked hurriedly down the hallways, throwing the hospital wing door open at the end. He ignored those staring at him and sat down.

"How is she?" Madam Pomfrey bustled over. She grabbed her chin and began to examine it furiously. "I can't put stitches in her chin when she's awake."

"Stitches?' Hermione gasped in horror, her voice squeaking.

"Yes, of course, dear. Did you think I was just going to let you go off when your chin looks like that?'

"Don't worry, 'Mione," Ron said. "I'll be right here."

"Here, take this." Madam Pomfrey poured a bright bubblegum pink liquid down her throat. "It's a powerful sleeping draught. You won't feel a thing- and you need some sleep, anyway. I'll be back in a moment; I need to care for Neville."

"That boy gives new meaning to the words 'accident prone'." Fred muttered darkly.

"Does it hurt, Hermione?' Ron asked softly, gently parting her hot, wet bangs. Hermione averted her eyes and nodded. He planted a kiss on her forehead, stroking her hair until she fell asleep.


	9. Private Talk

_Chapter Nine_

"27…28…29…30!" Harry counted eagerly. "All 30 are there, just like Madam Pomfrey said!"

Hermione groaned and rubbed her chin agitatedly. This had been the umpteenth time Harry had counted her stitches, not to mention Ron, Fred, and George as well. She just could not understand how they could so completely obsess over something as trivial as stitches and yet fall asleep during their History of Magic classes, a much more exciting and rewarding subject.

Though she had to admit that she somewhat enjoyed telling of her adventures with Bellatrix Lestrange when they boys were so enthusiastic, she had grown bored of Hospital Wing. The routine had been the same for three days- Madam Pomfrey and/or Mrs. Weasley would check-up on her when she woke up, after breakfast, after lunch, after dinner, after snacks, after being visited, after finishing a make-up assignment…nothing she did was left unchecked. NOTHING. They always asked her if she was all right, and didn't seem that there was anything she could say that would convince them that yes, she was fine and had been for some time.

But even though Hospital Wing was immensely boring- there was always Fred and George.

"Honestly, Hermione-" Fred began.

"You're such an amateur," George sighed.

"Right you are, George."

"Only thirty stitches."

"Weak!"

"Pathetic!'

"Lame."

"I'm sorry to interrupt," a calm voice said. Hermione and the twins all turned to face a man with a long, smooth face, soft brown eyes, a small tanned nose, and blonde shaggy hair that fell to his eyes. "My name is Lucas Aldair."

"Lucas?" George questioned.

"That's not a very common name, is it?" Fred added.

"My mother liked it," the man replied, smiling toothily and brushing his overgrown bangs out of his face.

"I like it, too." Hermione said, smiling pleasantly.

His eyes twinkled as they met hers. "Miss Granger, it's good to see you up and well. I don't believe I properly introduced myself last night."

Hermione shot him a puzzled look.

"I was the wolf- I'm an animagus."

"Oh…well, thanks for rescuing me. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Aldair.

"Everyone calls me Aldair. Just Aldair."

"Well, 'just Aldair,' how did you know where to find me when you did?"

"As an auror, I was of course-"

"You're an auror?" Fred, George, and Hermione gasped in unison.

Aldair flushed, mussing his hair. "Yes, of course. I thought Dumbledore told you…?"

They shook their heads.

"Ah well," he shrugged. "Now you know."

"That is so-" George said.

"-awesome!" Fred continued.

"How long have you been an auror?" Hermione asked.

He furrowed his brows. "Uh, about 23 years ago."

"Whoa," the twins gasped.

"Do you have enough time for a family, Aldair?" Hermione asked.

He smiled warmly. "Even if I didn't have the time, I'd still have one!"

"How many kids do you have?" Fred wanted to know.

"There are seven Weasleys!" George boasted.

Aldair's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Blimey! Seven kids!" The twins nodded eagerly. "I only have three- two boys and a baby girl."

"You are married, right?" Hermione asked.

"To the most beautiful woman alive."

Hermione smiled.

"So what division in the ministry are you in, specifically?" Fred asked.

"Ah…well…I hunt after the most wanted death eaters, naturally. But I was specifically hunting after Lestrange."

"What would you recommend doing to become an auror?' George asked.

"Good grades- especially in defense against the dark arts."

Fred and George exchanged sad glances.

"Hey, Hermione." Ron stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. "Can we have a moment alone?"

The twins walked off as Ron stepped in, though everyone knew they had no intentions of giving them any privacy.

"I need to speak to Dumbledore- but it was nice to be acquainted, Miss Granger." Aldair said, shaking her hand just before leaving.

"'Bye, Aldair."

He waved and shut the door.

Ron jumped into the plushy bed next to Hermione, making her bounce a little. She giggled softly, cuddling next to him.

"How are you, 'Mione?" He brushed a stray piece of hair from her face.

"Better," she sighed.

"You excited about the dance tomorrow?"

"Uh…no, not really."

"Why not?" he gently nuzzled her cheek affectionately.

"This." She pointed at her chin. Ron couldn't help but laugh.

"You're still beautiful, Hermione," he whispered in her ear. She looked at him, and then shook her head, blushing.

"You're beautiful enough for me," he said, leaning in and gently pressing against her lips. He set his hand on her exposed collar bone and stroked it gently.

"Ahem."

The two jumped as Ginny, smirking broadly, cleared her throat.

"All right, whaddaya want?" Ron asked.

"To speak to Hermione, _privately_," Ginny demanded.

"Can't you see Hermione and I were just doing that?" Ron retorted irately.

Ginny sighed. "Well, I wouldn't exactly call that _speaking_ privately, but since you're so 'busy', I'm sure mum would love to hear about all this…"

"Fine. I'm leaving!'

He glared at his little sister before leaving.

"Things are moving a bit fast between you two, don't you think?"

"NO," Hermione sighed deeply, sinking back into the pillows.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm assuming you know what I'm here for."

Hermione groaned. "I dunno…what on earth could cover these up?"

Ginny looked at her stitches thoughtfully. "I already started some research, but..." she pulled out a huge stack of books. "-it might take awhile."

"Well that just about killed the joy of reading."

Ginny laughed grimly. "Start on page one."


	10. Alone

Chapter Ten

"I look like Frankenstein."

Hermione's frame sagged as she stared into the mirror sadly. Her dress was a deep, satiny blue just lighter than the summer's midnight sky. Her hair, softened to loose waves, flowed gently to her fairy-dust covered shoulders, pulled out of her face with a light blue ribbon. A shimmery gold rope laced up the front of her strapless dress. Its bottom was translucent chiffon in a slightly lighter shade of blue. Long, curved fairy wings clung to her back, perfect for the dance's theme of a Midsummer's Night Dream. Hermione looked practically perfect- but neither of them could avoid the fact that the ugly dark stitches on her face stuck out and detracted from her whole look.

Though they had read the entire volume of Ginny's research, none of the charms they had found helped at all. Hermione suspected that Madam Pomfrey had put her own charm on them; one trip to Hospital Wing confirmed and worsened these fears. Not only had Madam Pomfrey charmed them, she's used a spell that was permanent until the stitches had completely healed. Hermione asked if the charm could be temporarily removed for the dance, but the nurse immediately refused, not wanting to take the risk. Make-up, the only other option, (unless you consider wearing a mask an option) hadn't worked well, either. The amount of concealer needed to hide the stitches quickly piled up- producing a flesh-colored bump that looked like a freakish mutation. Hermione eventually decided that it looked worse than the stitches alone. Now, there was only one way to hide the stitches, and that was to avoid the dance completely.

"Hermione, you have to go," Ginny pleaded. "You'll break Ron's heart."

"You'll break mine if you force me to go through with this," Hermione whined.

"Ron's been waiting forever for this. Look, Hermione-" she grabbed her shoulders and stared her straight in the eye. "Ron didn't even know if you'd be alive to spend this dance with him. A week ago, it seemed unlikely. Do you realize how lucky you are to have gotten out with your life-and only bearing thirty stitches? That was a miracle. Besides, Ron won't even care. He sees you, not a beaten-up chin."

Hermione shuffled her feet. "But everyone else will notice and care."

"Do you honestly care if they care?"

Hermione smiled. "I dunno…"

"We are marching down there, Granger. My brother is a total prat, but you're going to the dance with him."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Hermione stared at the cold grey ground awkwardly. Now it was just the two of them- Ron and her- sitting at a table silently. The others were partying on the vibrant dance floor, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to do it, not that Ron had asked, anyway. Little more than brief compliments had passed between them, if you could call that conversation.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron?" she turned from her staring position to face him.

His ears turned pink and he scratched his head nervously. "I really…like your stitches…they…bring out the color…in…your…eyes?"

Hermione blushed, grabbing his hands and pulling him to his feet.

"Dance with me, you moron."

Ron grinned stupidly, obviously pleased with himself. The two glided to the dance floor, in a secluded corner- so they could be alone. As if on cue, a slow song began to play, and couples immediately formed. Hermione looked at Ron helplessly.

"What's the matter, 'Mione?" he asked, concerned.

"Well…it's been some time…and…I know this is going to sound stupid, but-"

"You forgot how to dance?"

She nodded, cheeks burning.

"Sorry, but it's been awhile since the Yule Ball."

"Don't worry about it," he said kindly. "If mum hadn't coached me day and night, I'd be pretty clueless myself."

"Guide as you will."

"Here," Ron gently took her hand and set it on his warm neck. He took her left and set it next to it. Then, slowly, his own two hands slipped to her waist. Hermione gasped in surprise.

Ron immediately released her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Sorry, it's just…that's the first time you've ever held me like that."

She averted her eyes.

"Do you like it, 'Mione?"

She smiled in reply and his hands gently returned to their position.

"I never thought this would happen," Hermione admitted as they swayed back and forth. "You know, us together, dancing…"

"Yeah, this is finally an official date."

Hermione smiled. "You know, Ron, I still liked you even though we hadn't technically started dating. I mean, you have to consider the fact that a lot of unavoidable obstacles came in our way."

"I know, but this is just so surreal. It's like a scene from a dream almost. The lights, all the fairy scenery…it seems too perfect to be real."

"But it is real."

"Yeah, I know," Ron said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Hermione laughed and set her head on his chest, taking deep breaths filled with his cologne. Hermione's eyes began to droop…the lullaby-like song…swaying gently…pressed against the warmth of Ron's body…she felt herself drifting…

"Hermione!"

She jumped and looked at Ron.

"…What…?"

He held her close. "Are you okay? I thought you were going to pass out or something; I felt your legs start to give out."

"No, I'm fine," she replied, stifling a yawn. "Just sleepy. I mean, with the music and everything…"

"Let's go sit down," Ron suggested, evidently still worried.

"No, Ron, I want to keep dancing," she protested.

"No, let's go sit down. The song's over, anyway…"

"Oh," she said sadly, letting herself be dragged to the nearby tables.

"Now," Ron said as they each sat down. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, Ron," she mumbled impatiently.

"Look, Hermione," he reached over and planted a kiss on her nose. "You know I'm not trying to ruin this. I just care a lot about you."

"I know," she sighed. "I'm just so excited about this, and I hate it when you baby me like this."

"Okay, 'baby', let's go dance," he took her hand and led her back to the dance floor. The song playing was a fast-paced Weird Sister's hit, "Hello", one of Hermione's all-time favorites.

"I love this song!" Hermione squealed.

"I know," Ron said, smiling.

"Oh, Ron," she wrapped her arms around him affectionately. "I don't know why we didn't go out sooner. If Viktor was half the man you are…"

To her surprise, Ron suddenly violently pushed her away.

"Ron? What's the matter?" she gasped, searching his cold blue eyes.

"Viktor?" he hissed sardonically. "Viktor? What am I to you, some replacement? We actually have a moment together, and you bring him up?"

"Ron what are you talking about?"

He roughly grabbed her shoulders. "Is that all you care about? Having rich Bulgarian boyfriends?"

"Ron, you're hurting me!" she screamed, desperately trying to pry his hands off.

"YOU'RE HURTING ME!" he bellowed in her face.

"Ron, I-"

"I hate you," he spat, pushing her viciously to the ground. She stared up at him, tears welling in her eyes. All heads turned and watched Ron march out of the Great Hall, slamming the door behind him. Hermione bit her lip as a tear choked down. She was empty, numb, lonely…and betrayed.

A/N: I was disappointed with the last chapter's results; I wanted to finally reach my goal of 100 reviews. However, I had already prepared most of this chapter, so I posted it anyway. Heads-up on next chapter- Hermione goes to the next level. It's in-progress, but until I get another three reviews on Chapter Nine, not in general, on Chapter Nine, then I refuse to post. Sorry guys but it's been a big goal for me.


	11. Life's Not All Skittles and Beer

_**Chapter 11**_

Hermione clenched her fist tightly and licked her cracked lips. Ron's words lashed across her back for the millionth time, breaking the previously damaged skin and ignoring the red tear drops falling. As they came back for another swipe, she held her sides tightly and tried to comfort herself. Things would blow over eventually. They always did. They had to. Three weeks and a Quidditch match just weren't quite enough…

Something spiky brushed against her leg, making her jump.

"Oh…Crookshanks," she took a deep breath. "You scared me, silly kitty."

He leaped up next to her dutifully and nudged a bulging package towards her.

"Thanks," she said simply, stroking him gently in gratitude. He purred happily and curled up in her lap as she opened the plainly colored brown package. It was from her mother—she should have known.

_My Dear Hermione,_

_It's mum! Just wanted to say how much your father and I miss you. I hope this reaches you in good health and spirits! (Hermione smiled at this despite herself) We are so proud of you. Don't forget to study your hardest._

_Oh, and I know that it's that "time of the month" for you. Now, of course there's plenty of magic in the air, but you know how we don't think proper medicine and magic should mix, so I thought you would appreciate some "old-time magic" from home. Love you sweetheart!_

_Mom_

Hermione rolled her eyes and examined the contents of the "old time magic". There was the standard pack for menstruating monsters—pads, chocolate bars, and of course, a fresh bottle of strong pain killers usually prescribed to dental patients. Crookshanks eyed it all disapprovingly, hissing loudly.

"You'll never understand," she explained in mock-seriousness. "It's a girl thing."

Crookshanks shook his dignified, though rather squashed face, and walked off with his bushy ginger tail high in the air. Hermione couldn't help but smile, if only grudgingly. Her cat wasn't always the most pleasant or desired company, but he never failed to entertain her. She rubbed her temples and stood on her feet, stretching out her arms. She had been sitting out on the grounds for a long time. The game had to be over by now. She glanced at her wristwatch, and reluctantly made her way back up to the castle.

* * *

"WE'VE COME WITH AMMO!" Fred screamed over the much too zealous Gryffindors in his path. 

"WHO WANTS SOME FIRE WHISKEY?" George asked loudly at his brother's side. He was met with loud cheers, especially from the older males in the room.

Fred grinned wickedly. "Looks like we still have our touch for making parties."

George smiled as he surveyed the cheering Gryffindors. "And all of our adoring fans."

Fred looked back and forth across the Common Room for a sign of McGonagall or Hermione. He couldn't see either.

"Fireworks?" he whispered.

"I'll get my lighter." George replied excitedly.

Just then, Hermione walked up to the Portrait of the Fat Lady. She greeted her kindly.

"Dribbles," she muttered somewhat half-heartedly. She could already hear the pounding noise of the after-game party, something she should have expected before showing up in the Common Room. The portrait swung open obligingly, and she was immediately engulfed in the high level of energy. Frowning as she witnessed at least a hundred rules being broken, all lead by Fred and George, she slowly made her way to the Girls' Dormitories over the pulsing crowd. Her room was empty, as she had safely assumed, just the way she wanted it.

She exhaled slowly and lay on her bed, wishing that she could just disappear for the night. She grabbed the water bottle she had set out earlier for the day and tossed a couple pills in her mouth, tipping the bottle again into her mouth to get them moving down her throat. Though she knew the medicine wasn't exactly "fast-acting", she did admittedly feel better knowing they were in her system. She rubbed her face agitatedly. Just one sucky day after another.

She looked at the alarm clock on her nightstand and regretted that she had taken anything. She had some sleeping pills to help her sleep when her mind was muddled and heavy, (like now, for instance) but the two counter-acted any kind of pain-killer and the results could be fatal.

_Fatal._

Her insides squirmed and she froze uncomfortably.

_Fatal._

She swallowed nervously and chewed on her lips, closing her eyes tightly against this new feeling.

_"Mudblood, coward. What's the difference?"_

_"I hate you!"_

_Things would blow over. They always did. They had to._

_The results could be fatal…_

Hermione turned the bottle of pain-killers to its drug facts.

_Do not take other pills in combination with this one unless directed to do so by your physician. Do not take with alcohol. If you suspect overdose or alcohol intoxication in combination with this drug, contact a health professional immediately. _

She reached under her bed, groping for her Muggle Studies book. Brushing off a thin layer of dust off its leather-bound cover, she quickly flipped to its table of contents. She scanned its list and soon found the medicinal chapter and turned to it. It looked identical to the drug facts.

_Mixing muggle pills with alcohol increases the chance of death in combination with overdoes. The effects of these chemicals can be easily lethal. _

She paused. Fred and George would have brought fire whiskey…

* * *

Hermione lurked in the nearly non-existent shadows of the party. Avoiding all of the people was impossible, but Fred and George were easily distinctive, and they would be the only ones to give her any trouble. She made her way to the small table holding the fire whiskey. There were seventeen cups of the dark liquid, but they wouldn't be nearly enough. She searched for the bottle, spotting it quickly in a place a few feet away. She seized it and put it behind her back, watching the unsuspecting partiers shrewdly. 

"You were always an amateur." It was Fred's voice behind her, rendering the 'hide it behind your back technique' invalid.

She jumped, knocking over a couple of the pre-filled glasses.

"What are you doing with our whiskey?" George asked more out of curiosity than interrogation.

"We know you didn't intend to drink it."

"Hermione and fire whiskey? That just sounds wrong together."

"So…care to share?"

"Tell us."

"I, well, I…" she struggled to string together a coherent sentence. "I just wanted a drink. I didn't know it was your fire whiskey."

The twins snorted in unison. "A likely story."

Her cheeks flushed. "Please, leave me alone."

"What's this, 'Mione?" Fred questioned easily, pointing to the package stuffed safely under her arm. George grabbed it.

"Oh, look, Fred." He simpered. "A care package from mum. Isn't that sweet?"

The two snickered.

"Give it back," she snarled angrily, snatching at their hands.

"Why?" Fred taunted, holding it much too far above her head.

"Stop it!" she raised her voice slightly, her face pinkening in response.

A few people turned to watch.

"Come on, Hermione. Loosen up a bit. Have some fun."

"This isn't fun!" she insisted, desperately trying to reach the hoisted package.

Ron grabbed it. "What is this?"

Hermione shrank back down. He'd never give it to her.

"It's from her mum," Fred explained, shrugging.

"A care parcel," George added.

Ron sneered cruelly. "Still getting care packages from home?"

"Like you aren't," she retorted angrily.

He shook his head, blatantly ignoring the comment. "What's this for, anyway?" Mummy just missing her little 'Mione? Oh…" he pulled out the opened bottle of pills. "I got it. This explains a lot."

Hermione flushed but said nothing.

"I was wondering why you've been acting so catty lately. Maybe with these, you won't be such an obnoxious wench. But then again, pills can't cure everything." He threw the package to her with disdain.

She dropped it back to the floor, holding back tears.

"Shut. Up." She hissed.

"What did you just say to me?" Ron demanded.

"SHUT UP!!" she yelled.

"Did you just tell me to—"

"SHUT UP!!!" she screamed, tears finally breaking free of her tear ducts.

"YOU CAN'T TELL ME TO SHUT UP!" he yelled back.

"I just did." She retrieved the package, violently pushed past him, and exited the Common Room, all eyes glued to her back.

* * *

Hermione gagged and fell to her knees. 

"What's Granger doing?" Myrtle asked, deliberately unsympathetic. She peered t her arch-nemesis through her thick glasses. "Take another batch of that polyjuice potion?"

Hermione shot her a silent, but contemptuous glare. She took a deep breath and remorsefully swallowed another couple of pills. The process was exhausting—she could only swallow two at a time, and the bottle had been filled to its brim. She switched off between using the fire whiskey and water from the sink to wash it all down. The whiskey had a very pungent, spicy taste that made her stomach recoil, but she quickly became oblivious after the first few swigs. With relief, she saw that she only had a few left…chest heaving, Hermione took the last three and swallowed them dry. She choked and grabbed onto the cold basin, practically gasping for air. She reached for the whiskey bottle and in a matter of seconds, the entire contents had been effectively drained. She set it back down on the floor, looking disgusted as she wiped her mouth.

"Moping around, Granger?" Myrtle laughed heartlessly. "That Ron boy dump you or something?"

With this, Hermione broke down and wept. Her hair fell in her face, hiding the bitter tears rolling down her cheeks.

"You can't hide from me, Granger," Myrtle sniggered evilly. "Are you really crying under that bushy crop of hair or are they just fake tears?"

"Go away, Myrtle!" Hermione sobbed, throwing the empty bottle at the ghost. (A rather pointless form of revenge). She viciously wiped away he tears and with a subdued sniffle, she hugged her knees and set her chin on the caps, tears cascading from her sullen brown eyes.

She was going to die.


End file.
